


everything

by softambrollins



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softambrollins/pseuds/softambrollins
Summary: Seth gets home one night and finds Dean Ambrose sleeping in his bed, somehow not an incongruous sight at all, almost like he belongs there.





	everything

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to write something really soft and unrealistic for my own sanity, okay.

Seth gets home one night and finds Dean Ambrose sleeping in his bed, somehow not an incongruous sight at all, almost like he belongs there. 

He stands there and stares for a few long moments, expecting him to disappear. It has to be a trick of the light or of his own mind. Maybe the years and years of sleep-deprivation and blows to the head have finally caught up with him. He wouldn't be surprised — he's lost everything else, maybe now his sanity's leaving him too. 

But _Dean_ doesn't leave, no matter how hard he wills him away. So he takes a breath instead, slowly approaches his sleeping figure. 

Dean's a restless sleeper most of the time — Seth knows from experience that anyone who wakes him suddenly is at risk for a black eye — but sometimes he sleeps like the dead, still and silent, barely breathing, and that's even more unnerving. It's entirely different now. There's no tension in his body. His expression is unguarded, vulnerable, but he looks tired too — it's like he passed out from sheer exhaustion, almost as if he hasn't slept in days or weeks, or maybe he _couldn't_ , not until he was right here. He looks softer somehow, like all his sharp edges have been smoothed away by sleep. 

Seth can't bring himself to wake him right now. He just turns around and leaves him there, closing the door quietly behind him. He just goes about his routine like nothing's changed. He feeds his dogs, watches some TV, scrolls through his phone. The world seems to just be spinning as usual, completely unaware that Seth's entire life just got turned upside down. Yet again.

It's around midnight when he finally goes back upstairs and hears the faint sounds of someone beginning to rouse in his room, the slight movements of a body waking up, soft breathing, sheets rustling. 

He eases the door open and slips inside and that's enough to cause Dean to finally stir awake. He slowly sits up and looks at him, expression blank, not worried or cautious or anything. Just...resigned, somehow.

Seth just stands at the end of the bed, not quite looking at him this time.

"How'd you get in?" he eventually asks, a cursory question at best.

"I remembered where you keep your spare key," Dean says simply.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, trying to keep his tone as even as possible.

Dean's just quiet for a moment before he speaks.

"When I won that stupid title, I couldn't even look at it," he says bitterly. "But then it was gone, and I didn't know what to do, and I realised — that was all I had left. And I didn't even want it in the first place. I just wanted to take it from you."

Seth lets out a shaky breath. He sinks down on the foot of the bed like his legs have given out under him, his gaze still averted from Dean's eyes, fingers clenching at the sheets next to him. It's hard to hear any of this, even harder to look at him while he says it.

"I was so fucking angry, at you, at the world, even at Roman as fucked-up as that sounds," Dean continues, voice sounding choked now. "But none of that made it any better. Now I just have all this anger, and all this emptiness right next to it."

"Dean, you can't just —" he starts, shaking his head. He has no idea how to begin to deal with any of this right now.

"Show up in your bed?" he finishes bluntly. "You never had a problem with that before."

" _Dean_ ," he says, helplessly now, lifting his eyes to Dean's face, and then glancing away again.

He feels Dean just move closer to him on the bed, close enough that he can feel his warmth between them.

"I wish everything could just — _stop_ ," he says softly. "I wish I could go back. But I can't. So I'm _here_ , because I don't know where else to go." He suddenly looks so young and so lost and Seth feels an unbearable ache deep within his chest.

"We _can't_ , Dean —" Seth says, his voice cracking.

"You said you'd never be able to forgive me. You said we were 'broken.' Did you mean that?" Dean says, looking desperate for an answer now.

"I don't know," he says truthfully. He sighs heavily. "You hurt me. Really bad. I don't know what it's gonna take to fix that."

"I know. I'm never gonna forgive _myself_ for that," Dean says, reaching out and covering Seth's hand with his own.

Seth finally looks up at him properly, right into Dean's clear blue eyes.

"What do you want, Dean?" Seth asks quietly, sadly.

Dean reaches up now, and gently cups Seth's cheek in his hand.

"I want it to stop hurting," he tells him earnestly. "I want us to all be okay again. But I know I can't make that happen. That's not how life works. But I just want to believe that we might have a chance again. Not now, not tomorrow, but someday."

"What do you want right now, then?" Seth asks him intently.

"Right now, I just — I want _this_ ," Dean says, holding his gaze significantly. He lets out a breath, his eyes getting softer. "I want to kiss you."

Seth just looks at him. Before he can let himself think about what this means, he says, "Okay."

Dean draws nearer to him on the bed and Seth just watches him, unblinking, taking shallow breaths, until he closes the seemingly infinite distance between them, licks his lips before brushing them, so painfully gentle, against his own. Seth just goes pliant against him, barely reciprocating, just memorising what it feels like — the feel and taste of him, the utterly devastating _need_ he can feel in even the slightest touch. It's like the first time. It's the first time it feels _real_ , like the start of something more. Maybe it doesn't erase everything that's happened between them, but it feels like Dean asking for forgiveness, the only way he can. Nothing's ever been ordinary or easy with them; he guesses he shouldn't have expected this to be either.

When they eventually break apart, Dean just rests his forehead against Seth's, and they just stay there for a while, Dean's hand still on his cheek, breathing each other in.

Dean takes his hand again and guides him to the other side of the bed as he lies back down. Seth settles down next to Dean, facing him. They lie there for a moment or two, just looking at each other. And then Dean gently pulls him in against his own body, slowly wraps his arms around him, Seth's face resting on his chest.

Dean gently presses his mouth to the top of his head.

"I love you," he tells him breathily, just as Seth drifts off to sleep.

*

Seth's making coffee the next morning when he feels Dean come up behind him, warm chest pressed against his back. He puts his arms around his waist, presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, mutters, "Mornin'."

Seth just hums approvingly in response. He's still half-convinced he's having a mental break of some sort and that this is all some elaborate fantasy scenario that his fucked-up brain dreamt up for him.

Then Dean tucks his face into the curve of Seth's neck.

"Sorry," he murmurs right against his ear, the heat of his breath making Seth shiver against him. "I'm sorry."

He feels his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Dean slides over a little until he's standing next to him instead, one arm still around his waist, and Seth turns his head to lock eyes with him. "It's okay," he promises him quietly.

Dean just touches their foreheads together in what feels like gratitude before he pulls away again. 

Seth turns around to hand him a cup of coffee.

Dean just looks down and it and tells him, "Thanks." But then he reaches around him to place the coffee mug back on the countertop, before pulling Seth in by the hips instead.

"Dean," Seth breathes, startled, looking up at him. There's a new spark of longing in his eyes now. 

Dean doesn't say anything, just brings their mouths together in a kiss that has quite a bit more heat and urgency to it than last night's. Seth just lets himself stop thinking and goes by instinct instead, reaching out to curl his hands around Dean's neck and then up over the base of his skull. Dean apparently hasn't shaved in a while, there's a thin layer of soft fuzz covering the back and sides of his head now when Seth's fingers run over it. It's a pleasant sensation. Dean seems to like it too, from the way he softly moans against his lips and kisses him a bit harder, pressing him back against the counter, hips against hips.

It seems pretty surreal that a couple hours ago he was certain that he'd lost everything that ever really mattered to him and now he's making out like a teenager with his ex-partner, ex-best friend, ex-whatever else he may be, in his kitchen. 

He's starting to think that maybe this is the only thing he really needs. Maybe this could be his _everything_.

When they pause for air, Dean doesn't go far, just wraps his arms around his body in a tight embrace. Seth can feel him breathing against his hair, can hear the sound of his heartbeats. And god, Seth's missed this so much, he could cry from it.

He just finally lets himself melt into Dean's touch, closes his eyes, presses his face into his shoulder, fingers grasping at his shirt, keeping him as close as he can for as long as he can. Finally lets himself exhale.

*

They eat breakfast in silence, sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. The fact that it feels so normal is the only thing that makes it strange.

Seth just regards Dean curiously when they're done. He looks so much more comfortable and at ease now than before.

"So...what do we do now?" he asks carefully.

Dean just takes a second before he responds, as sure as anything, "I wanna stay. Here. For a few days at least. If that's okay with you…"

Seth nods in agreement. "Yeah. Okay."

"I heard that it's gonna snow in a couple days," Dean offers casually.

Seth just narrows his eyes at him. "You hate the snow."

Dean shrugs. "I hate being away from you more," he says, like it's that simple for him now.

Seth just stares at him for a moment, wondering how the hell they really ended up here together after everything and if they're both completely insane to think this is going to work. But then Dean looks up at him and gives him the first real smile he's seen in what feels like a really long time. It's small, but it's there. And it instantly puts an end to any lingering traces of doubt in his heart or in his head. Because right now, it's pretty hard for him to conceive of anything else in the world that matters more than this.


End file.
